


Lady Bracknell and Co

by Krystalmatsumiya



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, F/F, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalmatsumiya/pseuds/Krystalmatsumiya
Summary: Seriously not much plot i just saw a picture of all of the male characters dressed as women and um this was bornNot meant to be taken seriously





	

“No, I’m sorry Sherlock, but you can forget it, I’m not doing it” John Watson growled forcing Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade to look up from the mirror where he had been awkwardly applying a line of mascara. Sherlock who was being helped, or rather fought over by both Molly and Irene Adler, looked over at his roommate with a critical eyebrow, helped by the fact that it had been plucked glued and drawn back on, lifted to the hairline of his rather impressive wig. “You can’t make me! This isn’t what I signed up for when I became your bloody roommate!” 

“It’s not dangerous, but all of my contacts have told me that the guilty party will be in this club tonight” Sherlock said slowly his mouth looking vibrant under the cherry lipstick and gloss. Greg had to admit that the look, almost like a male Morticia Addams, shouldn’t have worked and shouldn’t have looked good on the arrogant consulting detective but it bloody well did. The black short sleeve top that he was wearing was almost graceful over his pale skin and the tight leather skirt was clinging to places that Greg didn’t even know Sherlock had had before. He didn’t look like a woman, but that wasn’t the point. The suspect, a waste of human life which had been preying on the trans community for the better part of a week, had so far only gone for transvestites and not transgender meaning that Sherlock looked like the perfect target. 

“I don’t bloody care if it’s dangerous, I look stupid and why the hell is even Mycroft here?” John growled gesturing with his hand to Mycroft who was indeed sitting in Sherlock’s chair dressed in a loose curly wig, pearls, denim jacket and a purple dress. His make-up was done to perfection and by himself meaning he looked completely unrecognisable from his regular self.

The most dangerous man in Britain gave a smile and raised a glass of brandy to his lips and Sherlock sighed rolling his eyes before turning back to Molly and Irene and motioning for them to continue as he said;

“My brother never misses an opportunity to do his Lady Bracknell” 

“Why? You don’t even like people” John spluttered and Greg watched Mycroft give a roll of the shoulders as he replied almost jovially;

“I do on occasion enjoy letting my hair down” 

“Or in this case putting it up” Sherlock responded drily his eyes looking through the mirror at Mycroft’s wig as he said “Red again?”

“With my eyebrows and lashes, red is the only colour that suits my complexion. You are rather more fortunate brother mine” Greg had to agree with that with a nod. Although he was a firm champion of Sherlock’s auburn locks the black did rather suit him. But he couldn’t get over Sherlock’s use of again as though it was something that he had seen the heart of the British nation don drag many times before. “I see your pet police officer agrees. I do hope that you will be paying attention tonight, this man is violent killer” 

“We weren’t planning on sneaking off into dark hallways Mycroft” Sherlock sighed slowly back allowing Irene to put a few more touches to his face before she laughed and hummed somewhat sweetly;

“Although, if you do find a nice darkened corner, I wouldn’t mind a video” 

“As if” Greg muttered his chest filling with hot jealousy even though he knew that Sherlock had nothing but friendly feelings towards the former dominatrix. Plus, Irene’s former inclinations towards his lover had dwindled away once she had met Molly. It was hard to think of the pair together in an intimate sense but Molly had appeared to be finally over her crush on Sherlock. 

“John, it’s just for one night mate, you can make the best of it, yeah?” 

“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t look…Frumpy, why couldn’t I wear what you’re wearing?” John asked and Greg had to admit that he felt a little proud at the back handed compliment. He had gone for a somewhat more 80’s punk/goth feel with his clothes. It was a throw-back to his misspent youth as a rebel, would you believe, and he was wearing a similar but rather more feminine version of his leather jacket, complete with studs, black jeans, and a blouse open at the front. His wig had been styled to give him a puffed up big hair look and his make-up was rather more flamboyant than it had been in the past but it had been fun to do. 

“It wouldn’t suit you, you rather more, uptight” Sherlock hummed and Greg was proud of how diplomatic his lover had been. He would have said that John needed to get the stick out his arse a bit more and learn to enjoy life. It wasn’t as though he looked bad in the purple and black dress it was just that he had outright refused make-up or even a wig. “If you put on a little make-up and a wig, you would be fine” 

“Think of it as the theatre, John, your audience awaits” Mycroft smiled getting up with an ease that was altogether to real given the size of the heels that he was wearing, before heading over to the trunk that Irene had brought with her. He rummaged around for a moment or two and then pulled out a sweet blonde wig “A well-worn wig, and some make-up and just a little confidence and you can be the Belle of any ballroom” 

“No, bloody way, Mycroft Holmes did not just say that to me?” John whined as Mycroft placed the wig on his head and then proceeded to add a little make-up. It wasn’t perfect but it was better than he had been before  
.   
“There, no longer frumpy, brother mine are you ready?”

“As I shall ever be” Sherlock hummed in agreement getting up from his chair with as much ease as Mycroft had done and Greg was left thinking of the Holmes brothers as children raiding their mother’s wardrobe and quickly he pushed it away walking forward with a little less skill and coordination but determination and he desperately tried to ignore the clicking sounds of phones as he put a hand on Sherlock’s back. Tomorrow he had no doubt that the pictures would be flashed about and he hoped that he would get one of Sherlock. And perhaps Lady Bracknell just so that when he went back to being the deadliest man in Britain Greg could treasure this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that this is okay and somewhat fun xD


End file.
